The Notion of Loss
by Gold Scribbles
Summary: Butch. Boomer. Brick. You never know what will haunt you in the end. DARK. Re-posted and edited.
1. Green Poison

**Green Poison**

* * *

It had rained the night before. Mud and soggy leaves clung to the bottom of his boots as Butch made his way up the hill. The soft ground yielded under his weight. The scent of wet wood irritated his nose. He pushed a few branches out of his way to avoid getting scratched. There was a beaten path he could've taken a few yards back. It was relatively free of long branches and much easier to travel on, but he was used to the rough terrain. Besides, what's the point of hiking without getting a few scratches here and there?

_You look like you got into a fight with a cat with all those scratch marks. _

Gritting his teeth, Butch pushed ahead, determined to get to his destination. When he reached the top of the hill, he took in the landscape with a critical eye. _I suppose it's nice,_ he thought. Eyeing the position of the sun, he estimated that it was getting close to three.

"Gotta pick it up," he mumbled to himself. "It gets dark fast this time of year." Adjusting the bag on his shoulders, he walked down the hill, careful to avoid the cluster sharp-looking shrubs scattered there. Once at the bottom, Butch shook some of the gunk off his boots by knocking them against a tree trunk.

The hike was a lot quieter this time around.

"_We there yet?" he grumbled, swatting away the bugs that were hovering over his head._

"_No we're not there yet!" Buttercup snarled. "You've been complaining for twenty minutes now. Give it a rest, will you?"_

"_Why the hell can't we just fly there?" he demanded, snapping off the offending branch that had just given him a fresh cut along his arm._

"_Because that's not the point of a hike, idiot," she answered, pushing a branch out of her way. "When you hike, you walk. You don't fly."_

"_That's stupid. Flying gets you there faster and –ow!" She released the branch just in time to whack him in the face. "What was that for?" he demanded, glaring at her back while rubbing his face._

_Buttercup tossed an annoyed look over her shoulder. "Tough luck. Who told you to tag along?"_

"_Who told YOU to go trekking through the forest on some shit road? I swear to god, you pick the worst routes," Butch complained. "Besides, you always keep the enemy in sight at all times."_

"_You just didn't want to stay home," she accused, wiping the sweat off her brow. "Boomer would've pranked you and Brick would've run your ass into the ground with his training course."_

"_Getting away from those two is an added bonus," Butch conceded._

_She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Hurry up, I hear running water. I have to refill the canteens and the campsite should be close by."_

Butch kneeled by the stream and splashed his face with water. The sun was well on its trek down, judging from his elongated shadow. Everything was acquiring an orange-red tint. Looking at his hands, he could almost imagine that there was a fire raging underneath his skin. The colors reminded him of the orange scales of a salmon fish, and he remembered that he needed to catch something for dinner.

"_You're cleaning those. I don't want to smell like fish guts for the rest of the night," she said, wrinkling her nose at his catch._

_He smirked. "Why Buttercup, that's the girliest thing you've ever said."_

"_Don't make me hurt you, Butch."_

He tossed his hefty catch on the shore and slammed his fist into a tree, splintering it in half. "Why am I _still_ thinking about her?" Slumping down against the damaged tree, he cradled his head in his hands. The sound of his labored breathing filled his ears as he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to block out any memory his surroundings would call to mind. It was stupid for him to go hiking when he used to do it with her all the time. In the past, it usually cleared his head, but now it seemed to do just the opposite. He couldn't even remember why he was there to begin with.

"_You can't kill me." _

She had been so sure, so _goddamn_ smug. He wanted to do just that, if only to show her that he _could_ and _would_ kill her. Eventually. And it would be so easy too, his fingers curling around her impossibly slender neck (it was the only _girly_ thing about her) and squeezing until all of the air flew out of her lungs.

It was a method he entertained for a while. He needed to come up with an idea of how to kill her. It couldn't be standard like all of his other assignments. That would be tasteless. It was inevitable that everything would boil down to them being locked in a battle to the death. She was a do-gooder and he was essentially created to destroy her. That made him evil by default, right? He shouldn't care about killing her.

"_If you kill me, I'll hand you your ass on a platter with all the trimmings," she stated while rotating a skewered fish over the fire._

"_You can't do that if you're dead, genius," he pointed out lazily from his spot on the fallen log._

"_Which is why you're not killing me. How many times do I have to spell it out for you? I'm the only one who can semi-tolerate your crap."_

"_Fine, think what you want," he shrugged. "Just don't be surprised when I smash your head into the ground." _

"_And you shouldn't be surprised when I kick your face in for it," she retorted, handing him the cooked fish. "Careful, it's hot."_

Picking up his catch, Butch continued his way to the campsite. He wondered what had changed in his relationship with Buttercup that made him so _sentimental_. The idea of her dying didn't bother him too much; only the thought of having more free time made him somewhat uncomfortable. He wasn't creative enough to think up fun things to do on his own. He usually relied on her to make his day entertaining, whether it was a sparring match or just a trip to the reacquaint themselves with Mother Nature with a couple of paintball guns in hand.

But those were only on the days they were nice to each other.

On normal days, he was ready to kill her the old fashioned way, by ripping her head clean off her shoulders. She would've deserved it too. She did everything from beating him over the head with a metal baseball bat (she smacked him so hard she _bent_ the damn thing) to electrocuting him in during lab class. A scar on his right side reminded him of a particularly painful incident where he was locked in a room with Brick to test out his newly designed obstacle course (_"Buttercup said you were looking to get a few extra hours in training,"_). In return, he once nearly drowned her when he shoved her head into a toilet, and again when he threw her bound body into a lake. He also punched a few of her baby teeth out when they were younger, and who could forget the time he threw a truck on her for being a smart-ass?

None of it mattered in the end though.

"_Since we're on the topic of your death," he said casually, picking his teeth with a fish bone, "how'd you suppose you'll go out?"_

"_With a bang, naturally," she replied easily, shooting him a look that said he was asking a stupid question. "I'm going down fighting the good fight, beating up the monsters and bad guys. Anything less ain't gonna happen." _

"_A Powerpuff through and through, huh?" he said condescendingly. _

"_And what about you, Mr. I'm-so-badass," she asked, shoving him on his shoulder, "how'd you think you're gonna croak?"_

"_Me? Croak?" He tossed his head back and laughed. "I'm gonna live forever!"_

_She laughed, throwing a twig at him. "Keep dreaming!" _

When he got the orders, Buttercup was as good as dead.

Butch reached the campsite and dropped all of his belongings. Taking the string of fish, he plopped down on a fallen log, flipped open his pocket knife, and proceeded to clean his catch. _I should get a new hobby,_ he thought as he sliced a fish open. _This one stinks._

It also made him think about a dead girl he killed.

It didn't matter that she was Buttercup, the person (he never could get around to calling her a girl) he'd spent nearly eleven years fighting with and clowning around with. It didn't matter that it had happened just when he was starting to get along with her. It didn't matter who she was or what she was going to become because he was going to (had already, in fact) kill her. She was just another name on the list that needed to be crossed off.

And Butch didn't regret doing it at all. He just had to wait out whatever slight inconvenience her death posed for him.

Patience wasn't a word in his vocabulary, but it was _something_ to him. Something he'd like to think that he'd use one day. He bottled and shelved it next to Justice, Sincerity, and all of the other morals he never practiced. Because secretly, though he'd never willingly admit it, Buttercup had rubbed off on him. It was just a little bit, but it was enough to make him stay up at night occasionally and think about how he'd fit into the whole "save the world" lifestyle. But Butch also ended up stuffing thoughts of that sort into a little jar marked "Dreams" ("Fat Chance" was more appropriate) and placed it next to Regret on the top shelf.

_A dark green blast sent her crashing through the trees and into a clearing. She landed hard on her back with a few thick branches poking her in the spine. Knowing he was nearby, she struggled to her feet and ran toward the trees to get some cover. "Damn it!" she cursed when her legs gave out shortly after standing, leaving her still yards away from relative safety. "What the hell is wrong with me?" _

_Left with no choice, Buttercup started crawling towards the bushes. She needed time to regroup and catch her breath. It was strange. She'd taken worse beatings before, but none had left her body feeling so worn out and sluggish. _

_A shadow fell over her and her mint green eyes widened. "Shit." _

"_Need a lift?" a sneering voice asked above her. "Let me help you out." _

_A swift kick to the ribs sent her crashing through the bushes and slamming against the base of an old tree. Gasping for air, she clutched her side as she weakly propped herself up. Butch stood in before her, not a scratch on him, with that smug look on his face. In her head, Buttercup was cursing him to hell and back as she watched him approach her. _

_Butch reached down and grabbed a fistful of her hair, lifting her up a few feet off the ground until she was eye level with him. "C'mon, say it," he goaded with an infuriating grin. "Say 'Mercy' and I might go easy on you."_

_Glaring defiantly, she spat a mixture of saliva and blood on his face. "Go to hell!"_

_Wrinkling his nose, he released her and watched her crumple to the ground. Wiping his cheek with the back of his hand, he tsked at her with disappointment. "What's going on? You said you're going out with a bang, remember? You haven't landed a hit on me yet." _

"_Just wait and see," Buttercup spat. With one hand gripping the tree trunk, she shakily got to her feet. "I'll waste you."_

_He gave her a dubious look. "Now, now, Buttercup. Every time a person lies, an angel loses her wings."_

"_You're so full of shit, Butch." she snapped. Curling her hand into a fist, she threw a punch at his chest. He easily caught it in his hand and held it hostage. _

"_Say it," Butch demanded, tightening his grip on her wrist, "or else." _

"_I ain't losing to someone like you!" _

_He sighed. "Your call." _

_He pretended that her scream didn't make his heart skip a beat when he snapped her wrist in half._

Now that she was gone, he had to remember that there was no need for him to get the upper hand anymore. He had won. Not only did he have the upper hand, but he buried her ten feet under – four feet deeper than conventions had asked for. He had completely _annihilated_ her in their last fight. Butch could still see her narrowing her eyes and baring her teeth at him like a pissed off bitch. Sometimes, he imagined that sparks would fly from her eyes and burn him if he looked close enough.

_This is stupid,_ he thought, half-angry and half-tired. _You know you get pissed off when you think about her._ He violently skewered the fish in his hands and set it down over the fire before he reached for another fish.

"The bitch is dead. End of story," he said out loud. "Quit dwelling on it like a chump." He hissed when he nicked himself with the knife. Squinting at the cut, he watched the blood well out and spill over in fat drops.

"_Come here," Buttercup commanded with the first aid kit in her hand. "We have to treat all those marks you got or else they could get infected."_

_Butch snorted but shifted to face her. He watched her soak a cotton swab in rubbing alcohol and pressed it to his cuts. He flinched at the stinging sensation, making her roll her eyes. _

"_Man up, you baby." She pressed harder on a particularly deep cut. _

"_You trying to kill me or something here?" Butch hollered. He evaded the cotton swab in her hand. _

"_Forgive me if I'm looking out for you," she said sarcastically. "Hold still! Geez." _

_After a few moments of silence, he noticed the slight tremors running through her body. Sparing her a glance, Butch noticed she was trying to hold in her laughter. When she saw his put-out expression, she burst out laughing. _

"_It's nothing, really," she said, waving off his glare. "It's just that, well. You look like you got into a fight with a cat with all those scratch marks._"

"_Shut up," he grumbled. _

_Her laughter tapered off into snickers, but he noticed that she eased up the pressure she put on used on his cuts. _

Once he deemed that the bandage were secure, Butch picked the knife back up to resume the cleaning, mindful of where his fingers were. Once that was done, he stuck the rest on the fire and rotated them so that they'd cook evenly. He took the first two and blew on them. Taking a bite out of one, he absentmindedly held out the other to the side and said, "Careful, it's hot."

When no one took it from him, Butch looked over, only to see the trees crowding around the campsite in the dark. Angry with himself for thinking that _someone_ was with him, he tossed the fish into the fire and watched it char. "What'd ya expect?" he sneered at himself. "Think she'd still be here with you? She's dead."

He fell quiet for a moment. "You made sure of it."

_She was a bloodied mess at his feet, shaking and moaning in pain. Butch wondered if he accidentally broke a few of her ribs with his kick back there. Judging from her breathing pattern, he didn't rule it out. Buttercup tried to pick herself up but cried out when she placed pressure on her broken wrist. _

"_If you say 'Mercy' I can probably work something out for you," he offered. "If you swear your loyalty to my people, I can spare your life."_

_She lifted her head up to glare at him. "You can take your offer and shove it," she growled. "I ain't no traitor." She trailed off into a coughing fit, hacking up blood on the ground. _

"_Too bad," he said, holding out a needle for her to see. "Guess I got the antidote all ready for nothing." _

_He could see the wheels in her head turning, generating a conclusion that was growing clearer and clearer each second. _

"_You poisoned me," she whispered to herself in disbelief. "You poisoned me."_

"_That seems to be the case, yeah," he confirmed nonchalantly. "All that running you did just made that stuff in your blood work faster. Won't be long now before it paralyzes your lungs."_

_Buttercup felt her heart speed up. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead. "Y-you coward. You goddamn coward! You took the easy way out and made it so that I couldn't fight back!" She gripped his ankle with her good hand and squeezed as hard as she could, willing the bones beneath her fingers to shift and crack. "What, you're too fucking scared to face me like a man and go at me in a fair fight? Is that it?"_

"_Hey now, what's all this fairness talk about?" he asked, grabbing her by the shoulder and slamming her up against the tree. "I'm the bad guy, remember? I don't do all this fair and equal bullshit. I'll use whatever means necessary to get the job done and to always come out on top." _

_She lashed out a foot to try and kick him where it hurt, but he evaded it and clamped her legs down between his knees. Leaning forward, his dark green eyes glittered maliciously as he whispered in her ear, "The poison's laced with Antidote X."_

_A part of him took great pleasure in the way her eyes lit up in horror while another part felt slightly nauseated by it. The latter was promptly crushed and tossed in the furthest corners of his mind. "Your powers were the first thing you lost," he continued. "That's why you can't fly away, shoot your laser beams at me, hell, your punches don't even hurt that much without your super strength backing it up." Butch held up the needle and squirted some of the clear liquid out in front of her. _

"_This is your cure," he explained. "All you gotta do is to change sides and you get to live."_

_She stared at the needle and, for one heart pounding moment, he was sure she'd do it. _

_Buttercup licked her cracked lips before speaking. "Would you ever betray your brothers?" He moved his head back, frowning. Her eyes dared him to say yes. She pressed on before he could answer, chuckling. "So why do ya look like you expect me to betray my sisters? I don't care if I die. I'm gonna die on the side I was born on, and so are you."_

_Snorting in disgust, Butch growled out, "That your final answer?"_

"_Stop asking dumb questions," she snapped, conscious of the fact that her body tremors were becoming more noticeable and violent. "I ain't taking back my words."_

_The last thing she saw was the needle soaring across the air and smashing against the trees, the liquid soaking into the bark. _

If she had just fucking said it. If she hadn't been so stubborn (and stupid and bitchy and everything he had come to depend on). If she hadn't been so goddamn_ smug_ and so goddamn _sure_ he wasn't going to rip her a new one. If she hadn't looked so surprised (he _told_ her not to be surprised) to see him watch her die. If she'd had just left her goddamn morals behind and had taken him up on his offer, Butch wouldn't have had to slit her neck (her slender, womanly neck that he thought about more than he wanted to admit). He wouldn't have had to watch her _watch him_ watch her bleed out.

"Stop thinking about her, you wuss!" he shouted at himself, squeezing his eyes shut.

_Man up, you baby._

Butch snapped his eyes open and looked around wildly, half-expecting to see Buttercup grinning at him.

She was there, but only in his imagination.

"This is lame," he muttered to himself. He kicked dirt over the fire to snuff it out and fell on his back, staring up at the night sky. "She was _just_ a Powerpuff."

But she had been something more than that. When she told him that he would die being on his side (the wrong side, the bad guy side, the selfish side, the _coward_ side), there was something inside him, something that wanted him to change her mind and prove that he could've been different. He could've been some hotshot hero that the papers glorified. He could've been someone who fought beside her instead of against her.

Butch could almost hear her say, "You could've been a lot of things if you keep thinking like that."

It didn't matter. What's done was done. And after all, she was just a little girl who was on the wrong side (because he concluded that the wrong side was the side he _wasn't_ on). She was just Buttercup (who so much more than what he could admit or handle). Whatever she was to him, he compressed it into a tiny jar marked "Memory" and placed in all the way in the back next to Happiness, where it would gather dust along with all the other things he would eventually get around to using (or so he told himself).

He spent the rest of his night waiting for the sky to lighten with the rising sun.

Rain fell when morning came.

* * *

**Butch never took the path less traveled by.**


	2. Blue Bruise

**Blue Bruise**

* * *

Peering out the window, Boomer watches the trees pitch violently against the winter winds. Summer had been unnaturally warm that year with temperatures just shy of unbearable. It was so hot that summer couldn't contain it and the heat spilled over into the next season. As a result, the leaves were scorched red and yellow and orange while the tree barks burned black in the heat. It wasn't until November that the temperature finally let up. Now, the cold winds howled down the streets to make up for being held at bay for so long.

Unfortunately for Bubbles, the sudden change in climate made her sick.

Fortunately for Bubbles, Boomer swears to take care of her until she gets better. He knows that when she wakes up, she'll thank him with a bright smile and say his name with that wonderful laugh in her voice. And when she does, he'll grin back and give her the biggest hug she's ever received.

"_Boomer!" _

_His extra-sensitive hearing picked her voice out from the swelling hum of voices in the airport. Before he had the chance to look for her, she crashed into his side and encircled his waist with her arms. He looked down and blushed at the sight of her dazzling smile. His mind went blank momentarily before it rebooted and he quickly disentangled himself from her. _

"_Bubbles, please." he said half-jokingly. "This is a public area."_

_She laughed and his heart skipped a beat. "How was your semester abroad in Germany?"_

"_It was good. Their chemical engineering program was better than I thought it'd be."_

"_So you're definitely going to college there then?" _

_He nodded and pulled his suitcase along with him as they walked out the gates, stopping in front of a sleek black car. They both climbed in after placing the luggage in the trunk. Brick sat behind the wheel and Boomer was mildly surprised to see Blossom in the front seat. _

_Blossom smiled at him and asked, "How was your trip?"_

"_Good." Boomer responded. "It was good."_

"_I'm so happy you're back!" Bubbles exclaimed, hugging him tightly. "I missed you so much." Blossom laughed at her sister's antics, eyes discreetly flickering to Brick who was busy adjusting the rear-view mirror. _

"_Er, yeah." Boomer chanced a peek at the driver's seat and caught the reflection of Brick's intense eyes boring into him in the rear-view mirror. The warning in those red eyes was unmistakable. "I missed you too." he said, carefully placing an arm around Bubbles under the disapproving eyes of his oldest brother._

Boomer throws another blanket over her body and tucks the corners in. "You have to stay warm, Bubbles." he says quietly, affectionately. "You can't get better if you don't."

He tucks her limp blonde hair behind her ears (_careful or you might tug it off like last time. She'll be mad if you do it again_). He colors boyishly and softly whispers, "I'm going to kiss you now. I've always wanted to kiss you." His fingers gently trace her blueberry lips. "I just never told you because…well, I don't know why." Boomer laughs at himself. "But it doesn't matter, right? Now you know and I'm going to kiss you."

He looks around quickly, as if to make sure he's alone, before leaning down. Just before his lips touch hers, he adds, "And my kiss will be better than all the other kisses you've had."

"_Um, maybe you should get going."_

"_M'kay." she agreed into his shoulder. Slowly, he detached himself from her and gave her hand one last squeeze before moving away. "Hey! Where's my goodbye kiss?"_

"_Er." Mac glanced back at the house and shrugged helplessly, as if that was all there was to say. "You know."_

"_I can't believe you're still so worried after all this time." she said, slightly exasperated but her affection lingered in her tone. "He's completely fine with it. It's my sisters you have to worry about."_

"_Are you sure?" he asked skeptically. "I get the feeling that he doesn't like me—" _

_She cut him off with a kiss, her lips melding softly with his. _

"_The only one you have to worry about liking you should me be," Bubbles assured, smiling against his lips, "no one else." Mac hummed in agreement and drew her closer to him._

_Boomer switched off his x-ray vision with a heavy, aching heart and the wall materialized back in front of him. He couldn't bear to watch anymore. _

Her lips are cold (_because she's sick_) and unmoving (_because she's asleep and people don't respond to kisses in their sleep_) and dry (_because she hasn't had anything to drink in months_), but Boomer still thinks that she's a great kisser. He peppers her lips with a few more kisses before pulling back with a smile on his face. Secretly, though he doesn't admit it to himself, because if he does he'll blurt it out to his brothers and they'll laugh at him for being a sissy, Boomer's hoping for that fairytale magic.

True love's first kiss will wake her up. Happily ever after. All that jazz.

_"He's the one, for sure." Bubbles said confidently, so confidently that the words sharpened themselves on what should have been his non-existent heart._

"How would you know?" Boomer asked thinly.

_"From his kiss," she replied, "the first time he kissed me, it felt like I suddenly woke up and everything was brighter somehow. Newer." Her eyes acquired a shine that Boomer had never seen before. _

"_I love him." she admitted so softly, so sincerely, that he had to look away. His fists clenched against his thighs._

"_What if someone else made you feel that way? Then what?" he asked when he was able to look at her again._

_She smiled at him. Her face was so unbearably gentle that he should've known better than to hope. "Don't you know? You only get one true love in life, Boomer."_

He's very disappointed when Bubbles keeps sleeping.

"Dumb stories." he mutters sulkily_._

Then he remembers that Bubbles should be getting as much rest as she can and wonders why he wants her to wake up so badly. His stomach twists, and for a moment, Boomer thinks he's coming down with the same thing Bubbles contracted. After all, he's been around her for months. Surely he would've caught something for always being in that room. A nagging little voice in the back of his head tells him that's impossible because you can't catch – (_don't think about it, stop, stop, stop_).

Boomer decides firmly that his stomach is acting up because he's hungry. "I'll be right back, just getting something to eat. I'm not leaving you." he promises.

_She looked up at him with panic stricken eyes, her face crumpled in tears. "I don't know where he is, Boomer." she cried into her hands. "I can't find him anywhere. Where did he go? Where did he go?"_

_He gathered her into his arms and wiped her tears away, inwardly marveling at how soft her skin was. Did she always smell this nice? Boomer couldn't resist gently kissing the top of her head when she curled up against his chest. He wondered if she could feel his heart racing beneath her hand. _

"_It's alright, Bubbles. I'm here for you." he said soothingly, running his hands through her silk-spun hair. _

_Hidden a few feet away was a motionless body with a syringe sticking out of its neck. _

He closes the door behind him and takes a deep breath of fresh air. Making his way down the hall, he passes by open doors that revealed empty, dust-covered rooms. There was a time when those rooms were filled with more than just cobwebs and abandoned things. Glancing into one room, he can still see Blossom brushing her long hair in front of the mirror and smiling at him when she caught his reflection there. The next room was where Buttercup used to do push-ups with one arm behind her back to the latest rap-metal band.

But the memories fade as quickly as they had appeared and Boomer keeps walking.

He clears the staircase and turns around a corner, noting a dent in the wall he's been meaning to get fixed. He makes a mental note to call the plasters in the morning as he steps into the kitchen.

"_Where have you been?"_

_Bubbles paused at the threshold of the kitchen, her good mood slipping away when she noticed the room occupied by angry siblings and indifferent counterparts. "Um, I was out with Mac."_

"_We've been trying to reach you for hours. We needed back up on a robbery downtown." Blossom informed her with disappointment in her eyes._

"_It was our anniversary." Bubbles said as she moved past her sisters and around the counter where the boys were watching the scene unfold. She opened the fridge and put her half-eaten cake inside. "Besides, it was just a robbery."_

_Buttercup snorted. "Yeah, until the twenty-foot sea monsters decided to pop in and say hi."_

"_You've been flaking on your duties lately. What's going on, Bubbles?" Blossom demanded. _

"_Nothing!" Bubbles whirled around. "I just wanted to spend time with my boyfriend, okay? Can't I do that in peace without getting the third degree from everyone?"_

"_Sorry if Townsville ain't under attack after your dates. We'll work out a timetable with the bad guys to avoid future inconveniences." Buttercup sneered._

"_We could've been in serious trouble. If Brick and the others hadn't been there to bail us out in the end, downtown would've been destroyed." Blossom lectured angrily. _

"_But they were there! Everything is fine. What's the problem?"_

"_The problem is that we're a team, Bubbles." Blossom argued. "We needed you and you weren't there." _

_Her light blue eyes burned with frustration. "Well maybe I don't want to be there anymore!"_

_The tension in the room spiked. "Excuse me?" Blossom's pink eyes narrowed dangerously._

"_I'm sick and tired of always having to put my life on hold to save the day. I just want to be a normal girl and have some time for myself and the people I care about. Is that so wrong?" _

"_Are you kiddin' me?" Buttercup exploded. "Fighting monsters and catching the bad guys are our jobs. It's everything we are!"_

"_No it's not. Not for me. There are so many other things I want!"_

"_Don't tell me you're in love with that guy." Buttercup said distastefully. _

_Bubbles jutted her chin out defiantly. "So what if I am?" _

_Blossom looked sharply over at Boomer. "Did you know about this?"_

_Boomer opened his mouth to respond, but Bubbles cut him off. "Leave Boomer out of this. It's got nothing to do with him!"_

_Something akin to understanding flickered across Blossom's face, but it wasn't enough to curb the angry words that rushed out of her mouth. As the fight grew worse, Boomer stuck his head in the fridge under the pretense of getting something to eat in order to escape his brothers' piercing stares._

Boomer tosses the half-eaten apple in the trash as he makes his way back to the room, oblivious to the cloud of fruit flies that rises from the bin. He quickly goes to check up on his patient. Careful hands anxiously ghost over her face and body, as if to make sure that she was still whole. Smiling in relief, he drops a kiss on her forehead, thrilled at how easy it is to kiss her now. "Told you I'd be back."

Glancing at the clock, he announces, "Time for your shot."

He opens a nearby cabinet and pulls out the usual batch of liquids needed for her daily injection. "I know you don't like needles, but this is the fastest way to get it in your system." Adding one last thing to the concoction (_you're running low on formaldehyde, remember to restock on your next trip to the lab_), he gives it a quick stir before filling the syringe. "But you know I'd never hurt you, right?"

He glances up and catches his reflection on the mirror in front of him. Surprised, he stares at his sunken features and at the large, mottled bruise covering the left side of his face. He lifts his hand to touch it.

"_You in here, Boomer?" Butch's voice rang out on the other side of the door. _

_Caught off guard, Boomer hardly had time to gather his wits before the door slammed open. Butch took one step inside and immediately covered his nose with sleeves, making a gagging noise. "Shit man, it stinks in here!"_

_Boomer hissed at him to be quiet and quickly glanced over at his patient. Miraculously, Bubbles didn't stir from her rest despite the racket. Sighing in relief, he whispered that he'd be right back, absentmindedly running his hand through her hair. He stood up, taking several locks of dull blonde hair with him, and pushed his brother out into the hallway so that Bubbles wasn't disturbed. _

"_Why are you here?" Boomer asked impatiently._

"_I came to see how you're doing. Brick's orders." Butch answered with a scrunched up face. "When's the last time you showered?"_

"_Figures you only show up when it's an assignment." Boomer snorts. _

"_I said Brick's orders. The company's got nothing to do with it."_

_His blue eyes narrowed into slits. "It's the same thing. Brick's the company's lapdog."_

"_I'd like to see you say that to his face."_

"_Maybe if he showed his face around here, you will." Boomer leveled his blue eyes with his brother's green ones. "I'll ask one more time. Why are you here?"_

"_I came to snap you out of it." Butch replied bluntly. "Get your stuff. You're moving back to the apartment. We even got someone to clean up your room and–"_

"_No." Boomer interrupted. "I have to stay and take care of Bubbles. She's still not better."_

_Butch's face twisted into a grim expression. "You've taken care of her already."_

"_Not completely, I–"_

"_I ain't gonna keep entertaining these games, bro." Butch scowled impatiently "You're coming and that's final." He hauled Boomer away by the arm and made it to the stairs before Boomer broke his hold._

"_I said I ain't going!" Boomer hissed._

"_So you're gonna spend the rest of your life in that room with a goddamn cor–"_

"_I told you to stop saying that!" Boomer found himself shouting with his hands shaking at his sides. "It ain't funny!"_

"_Oh yes it is," Butch sneered, "I always thought you were hung up on her, but I never thought you'd go this far. It's a fucking riot."_

"_You're disgusting." Boomer snarled, clenching his hands. _

"_Oh really?" Butch goaded. "That's funny since out of the two of us, I ain't the one who smells like deat–"_

_Boomer's fist smashed into Butch's jaw, sending him careening down the stairs. "Shut up!" _

_Butch slowly straightened up and wiped the blood from his lips. Something inside of Boomer recognized his brother's dangerous stance and tensed up. Panic weighed him down. Everything in him was telling him to run, but Boomer couldn't leave Bubbles alone with his psychopathic brother. Butch might end up killing her and that was not going to happen._

"_I'm gonna make you regret that, Blondie." Butch promised darkly, his murderous green eyes locked onto his little brother's wild blue eyes._

Boomer winces as his fingers pressed down on his injury, jolting him out of his recollections. Agitated, he runs a hand through his hair. "Look at me," he half-laughs at himself, "I'm so caught up in caring for you that I forgot to take care of myself."

He turns to look at the silent figure on the bed, trying to find some solace in her. "But you know I always put you first, right?" he asks imploringly, his dark blue eyes unnaturally bright. "I'm looking out for your best interest. That's why with Mac, well, he was no good for you. Not like I am."

"_Here, drink up." Boomer said, handing Bubbles a mug of hot chocolate. She took it numbly but made no move to drink it. "C'mon, Bubbles." he coaxed. "Buttercup and Blossom's finished their share already. You love hot chocolate, remember?"_

_Mechanically, she takes a deep gulp, barely tasting the sweet liquid, and then goes back to clutching the mug in her hands. "I don't understand." she whispered to herself. "People don't just disappear like that."_

_Blossom placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We'll find him." she reassured. "The police are doing everything they can to find–"_

_The sharp buzz from the telephone cuts her off. _

"_Yes Mayor?" Buttercup answered. "Gotcha, we're on our way." Slamming the phone down, she turns to the others in the living room. "Monsters. One by City Hall and the other was spotted heading toward the electric power plant outside of the city."_

"_That's more or less in the area where you go hiking, Buttercup. You take care of that one." Blossom said, standing up._

"_Butch, go with her. Blossom and I will clean up City Hall." Brick added. _

_Butch and Buttercup looked at each other in agreement before they took off, leaving two tones of green light trailing behind them. _

_Brick spared a glance at Boomer and said, "Take care of Bubbles." _

_He left with Blossom heading toward the center of town in the opposite direction that Butch and Buttercup went. _

"I've always taken care of you." Boomer is by her side now, crouching down so that his elbows are resting on the edge of the bed. "You know why, right?" he asks with a hint of panic in his voice. "You've gotta know."

He grabs her arm and drops it quickly, shocked at how cold she is (_you're not being careful, remember she's so very, very breakable_).

"_I met this guy during my semester abroad, did I tell you?" he asked conversationally as he held Bubbles by her neck in the air, cutting off her air supply. She let out a pained rasp and clawed at his hand, desperately trying to break his hold. _

"_He explained how the body reacts to certain compounds and stuff. Chemist, you see." Boomer continued, tightening his grip. _

_Bubbles tried drawing her powers in her hands, but pain crackled through her veins instead of energy and her body jerked uncontrollably. _

"_You should stop doing that," he advised, slamming her into the wall. Stars exploded in her vision when her skull made a dent in the wall. "Antidote X burns away the Chemical X in your system. By trying to use your powers, you're focusing the chemical to one spot. The Antidote X will notice and destroy it at that particular site. You'll just hurt more if you do that."_

"_Antidote X is interesting like that," Boomer eased the pressure on her throat but easily kept her pinned in place. She coughed violently as her lungs reached for much needed air. He smiled gently at her, proud he was able to give her what she needed. "I wanted to see what it would do to a non X-person. Y'know, wonder if it'd cure things like bad eyesight, asthma, puncture wounds and everything we never have to worry about." _

_His eyes were bright when they met hers, wild with a peculiar kind of excitement. "It was so nice of Mac to volunteer for the experiment."_

_Bubbles stopped struggling, her eyes wide with shock. "Why would he…he was completely healthy." she rasped out. _

"_I know!" he said exasperatedly. "I mean, the puncture wounds were no big deal. I did that in less than a minute, but it took me weeks to induce his stupid pollen allergy into chronic asthma, and then another week to get his eyes to go bad."_

_Her fingers dug into his wrist. "Boomer, where is he?"_

"_He had a bad reaction to it." he shrugged. "Apparently, Antidote X works like a fast-acting poison in non X-beings. That loser stopped breathing before I even finished jotting down that discovery. Go figure."_

_With a roar, Bubbles blasted him across the foyer. When he got back on his feet, Boomer casually walked back to her, dusting off his shoulder. Bubbles was on her knees, trembling with hers hand pressed over her face. "Didn't I tell you not to use your powers?" he scolded. _

_She dropped her hands. He could see her eyes flicker between red and blue when she tried to use her eyebeam on him again. Her pupils dilated from the strain and she cried out as blood welled up out of her eyes. _

"_Now look what you've done." he frowned. "You've just fried your optical nerves." _

"_Why are you doing this?" she croaked weakly. She didn't understand how he had just turned on her so quickly and so viciously. It didn't made any sense._

"It's because I like you." he whispers desperately (_stay calm, stop talking, just stop right there_). "I've always liked you. But I couldn't tell you because the company wouldn't have liked it, and then, then Mac _stole_ you from me." Before he knows it, he's reaching for her hands and the words he doesn't remember are spilling out of his mouth. "I had to get you back. Then the orders came and I couldn't say no–"

_Brick pulled into the driveway. Bubbles and Blossom went into their wing of the house while Boomer lifted his luggage out of the trunk. He avoided his brother's gaze as he rummaged through it. _

"_Boomer." Brick said sharply. "I hope you're not thinking about turnin-"_

"_Three doses of premium Antidote X, coming right up." Boomer cut in, pulling out a compact steel case. He held it out to Brick and said firmly, though his insides were shaking with nerves, "No, I'm not." _

_He felt Brick measuring him silently, and nearly sighed in relief when his brother took the box. "Good." _

"and you didn't have to say no–"

"_Boomer, it's me. Don't you care about me?"_

_Bubbles couldn't control her tremors when he started laughing. It made for a terrifying soundtrack as the dark blur came closer and closer. _

"_Of course I care." he smile sharply, forming an electric blue energy bomb into his hand. "Do you care about me?"_

"_If you care then why are you doing this? You're my best friend." _

_She felt him stiffen for a moment before that horribly bright light in his hand was suddenly in front of her. Her eyes stung as tears welled up in her eyes, adding salt to her blistering wounds._

"and–"

He manages to pull her hands from under the blanket into his own, grasping them tightly. The blanket falls off to the side, revealing (_don't look, don't look, DON'T LOOK_) a large discoloration on her caved-in chest through her tattered shirt. Startled, he dropped her hands. Her arms flopped heavily onto the bed like dead weights.

_Boomer pressed his body against hers so that they were touching at every point from their ankles to their chests. He groaned and resisted the urge to kiss her, instead stroking her hair longingly with his free hand. His body reacted to hers and he pressed her even harder against the wall. Even covered in sweat and blood and fear, she still smelled like home to him. Sighing regretfully, he pressed the crackling bomb into her chest. It sank beneath her skin and slipped between her organs. _

_Bubbles screamed, frantically trying to pull his arm away and pull it out of her. She used to have a scream that could shatter all the windows within a half mile radius. Now, with her damaged vocal cords, she could only squeak out a breathless rasp. He frowned and flexed his fingers. The bomb crackled and struck her lungs, tearing the lower lobes. She coughed up blood. _

"_But don't you see?" he murmured against her ear while curling his hand into a fist. "We could've been so much more." _

"_Please, please, please don't do this, don't do it, don't do it." she begged, incoherent with fear and pain. Her face was streaked with blood dripping from her mouth and her nearly-blind eyes, and there were dark blue bruises around her neck in the shape of his hand. _

_Boomer couldn't understand how she was still so beautiful to him. _

"_You don't have to do this, Boomer. Don't–"_

"_Yes, I do."_

_He squeezed his fist against her collarbone and ruined her chest cavity._

"That's not what happened. That's not what happened. I'd _never_ do that to you!" Boomer grabs the blanket and throws it over her again to cover her from the neck down.

"No, no, no. no. no." he chants, digging his fingers into his hair. "I take care of you. I _always_ take care of you."

But all he can hear is her heart _not_ beating and all he can see is her chest _not_ filling with air and her pale, pale, pale skin that used to have more color and the needle that –

Boomer wildly snatches it and crudely, _violently_, shoves it deep into her arm, injecting the liquid inside. "You see?" he shouts frantically. "I'm taking care of you. _I'm still taking care of you!_" He rips the needle out of her arm and flings it behind him.

Stumbling back against the wall, he stares at the bed in horror. His heart pounds unsteadily and it only makes him that much more aware of her absent heartbeat. He feels sick enough to throw up. The clinical part of his brain is telling him that he needs to breathe because he is going into shock. A list of things that he can do runs through his head but the thoughts and the logic are being warped into gibberish. He fists his hair into his hands and he thinks he's going crazy, so crazy, because Bubbles isn't okay and he's not helping because he ki—

(_Look! She's got some color back! Go look. You didn't do anything wrong or bad to her. She's fine, she's fine, she's fine._)

Boomer's eyes lock on her face. He stares unblinkingly at her and he thinks he's seeing things because there is _no way_ that she is less pale than she was before. He rubs his eyes clear before looking at her face again (_look, color on her cheeks!_) and slowly gets to his feet to walk to her bedside.

Sure enough, there is a hint of color creeping on her skin.

_Boomer yawned as he sat through another long lecture. It turned out that science was just as boring in a foreign country as it was in America. His blue eyes lazily glanced up at the teacher who was rapidly going through the material with enthusiasm._

"_Pay attention while I explain the process." the professor instructed. "You will be using embalming fluids in our lab tomorrow and you have to be careful to use the exact amounts I tell you. First take the formaldehyde and measure…"_

_Boomer sighed and laid his head on the desk, half-listening to the instructions and half-amusing himself with how terrified Bubbles would be if she had to do a lab on dead bodies._

_It brought a smile to his face._

His mind blanks out, all thoughts of impossibilities are gone because Bubbles seems to be getting _better_ and he is so happy that he grabs her arm–

–and pulls away because she is still ice cold and her flesh is so soft, _too soft_, that it retains a perfect imprint of his hand.

(_She's getting better, but she's not completely there yet. You still have to take care of her. Don't just stand there. She's cold, she's cold, she's cold._)

A smile slowly stretches across his face.

"You'll be better in no time, Bubbles. You just have to stay warm." He digs another blanket out of the closet and tucks her in. Boomer sits down on the chair by the window and finally allows himself to relax.

"You'll be better in no time." he repeats.

Peering out the window, Boomer watches the trees pitch violently against the winter winds. Summer had been unnaturally warm that year…

* * *

**Boomer wants to be the Knight and forgets he's already the Dragon.**


	3. Red Regret

**Red Regret**

* * *

"What are you thinking about?" Brick blinks and looks up to see Blossom smiling and sitting across from him. "You look like you've got a lot on your mind."

Her voice cuts through the emptiness in his head. The noise from the café rushes back to him as he looks around. It was teeming with people laughing and talking, and he'd been completely unaware of it. He looks back at Blossom and the noise slowly ebbs away; the cacophony of squeaking chairs, ringing cell phones, and loud conversations fade into a soft hum of voices and clinking tableware.

"Brick?"

Her white scarf flutters in the wind. She rearranges it by tucking it around her neck.

He can't recall thinking about anything at all before she arrived, but quickly comes up with a retort. "I'm thinking that you're late _again_."

"Someone once told me he liked consistency," she teases, raising her drink to her mouth. "I'm just accommodating you. I was late the first time so I'll be late every other time. You should expect it by now."

He does expect it, which is why he always orders her drink ahead of time. She takes a sip of her hot chocolate and sighs appreciatively. He watches her breath rise into the late winter air, gradually dispersing in the sky.

"How are you?" she asks, placing the cup back on its coaster.

He leans back and assumes a casual air. "Fine."

The silence hangs between them like rain clouds.

"I'm fine too. Thanks for asking." Blossom rolls her eyes. "I'm starting to think you don't like my company."

He raises an eyebrow. "What makes you think I do?"

She sticks out her tongue childishly, fussing with her long hair as she bundles it up and ties it in place. Her face is stark and severe without her hair framing and softening the sharp curve of her cheekbones and the point of her chin. _She's lost weight,_ he thinks, and wonders why he isn't surprised.

"Are you still working for that company?" The question catches him off-guard. His surprise bleeds onto his face and she looks at him strangely before elaborating, "You know, that job you and your brothers have had for _years_?"

"I know where I work." he snaps.

She bristles. "It's a fair question. I haven't seen you in months so you could've changed jobs. There's no need to bite my head off."

"There's no need for you to pry into my business either. Don't you know curiosity's a killer?"

"Oh, like you?"

Brick flinches back, blood roaring in his ears. His vision tunnels in on her (_accusing?_) face. "What did you just say?"

She crosses her arms over her chest. "Are you going deaf now? I _said_, like you don't stick your nose in my business? Remember when you hacked my computer after I explicitly forbade you from using it?"

He's sure she said something different, but she's looking at him with that smug little arch of her brows he hates so much and his rising temper burns the thought away. "Oh, you mean when you wrote that bullshit slander article about me and planned to print it in the school paper?"

"Slander?" she said indignantly. "You were terrorizing upperclassmen for their _parking spots_."

"They _gave _it up."

"You–" She stops and takes a deep breath, face red with the effort of reeling in her anger. She covers her face with her hands in an attempt to calm down. Part of him is disappointed. Brick loves it when Blossom's eyes darken with rage, making them less pink and more red. It's proof that underneath her bright layers of community service and heroism lurk the possibility of something menacing. He loves watching her struggle with that darkness, knowing that—however much she tries to deny it—she is _exactly_ like him, right down to his capacity for violence. One day he was going to knock her down and drag it out of her for everyone to see.

"We're dropping this." Blossom says, lifting her head. "We never get anywhere when we argue and I'm sick of it." Hesitantly, she reaches across the table, breeching the unspoken boundary onto his side. "We agreed to be civil, didn't we?"

Brick sighs, strategically removing his hand from the table and runs it through his short hair. He ignores the uncomfortable prickle of her hurt silence and glares at his empty coffee cup. She's such an idiot for having this _thing_ for him. He's going to make her regret it.

Blossom flushes and quickly reaches for his red cap on the table as if it was her intention all along. She's embarrassingly transparent.

"I don't know why you still wear this old thing," she laughs through a forced smile. "I mean, even I change my accessories around once in a while." She tugs the cap over her bundled hair. "How do I look?"

"Bald." he replies in a bored tone. "And it's my signature."

She laughs genuinely this time and puts his cap back on the table. "If you say so, Brick." Tugging on a few stray locks of hair, she looks at it contemplatively. "I've been thinking about cutting my hair. It's really impractical for battle."

Brick sees the logic in that decision. He's definitely used her long hair against her in the past. Just as he's about to tell her, an image of Blossom with short hair flashes before his eyes and makes him grind his teeth. He leans over and roughly snatches his cap back, crumbling its shape in his fist.

"I like it long."

She looks startled at the admission, her hand lightly touching her bound hair. "You do?"

"Yeah, I do."

It's not what he means to say and she's taking it the wrong way, but he doesn't care. She reaches up and pulls out her hair tie. The tightness in his jaw disappears as he watches her long red tresses tumble down her back. His fingers twitch with the desire to feel the fullness of her hair, needing it to chase away that horrible vision his mind conjured up. His hands start to reach for her but he catches himself and quickly occupies them with reshaping his cap and yanking it on backwards over his head. She sees his slip anyway and beams. She even tosses her hair to the side in a flirtatious way that Bubbles often did.

"Okay then." she shrugs with a happy grin.

The affection in her voice makes him blink, drawing his attention back to her face. Without realizing it, his eyes had followed the movement of her hair without his permission. He can't believe that stupid trick worked on him. Brick meets her eyes and is surprised at the trust he sees in them, even though he's been working to gain it for years. His stomach tenses up. Brick can't help but think about how fucking dumb she is for someone so brilliant.

"So, um, are you up for a promotion–"

"Thought I'd find you here." Brick turns his head to the side just in time to see Butch land a few yards away, spitting out a stream of blood-tinged saliva. "Boomer's still a No-Go."

Brick immediately notices Butch's split lip. "He got you _again_?"

Butch slams his hands on the table, rattling the cups. "He's a fucking nutcase now, all right? It's like walking straight into a minefield with him."

"Do you even have a strategy going into it?"

"If you've got a problem with how I'm going about this then why don't you do it yourself?" Butch snarls. "When was the last fucking time you saw him? Do you even remember?"

_Boomer shifted anxiously on his feet, eyes darting at the door. "Um, this meeting's over, right? I gotta get back to the house and, I mean, those old guys left and everything so..."_

"_Are you fucking kidding me? You–" Butch growled, digging his palms into his eye sockets. "Forget this. I'm outta here." _

_He stormed off, ripping the door off its hinges and throwing it off into the distance._

_Brick grabbed the bottle of liquid Boomer had been unsuccessfully hiding under his jacket. He held it up to the younger boy's wide eyes and shook it violently. _

"_Formaldehyde again? I have to admit this wasn't how I thought you'd apply your medical knowledge."_

_Boomer's profile burred and Brick hissed at the sharp pain exploding at his wrist. A split second later, Boomer came back into focus holding the formaldehyde possessively close while Brick nursed his stung hand. _

"_This is her medicine." Boomer responded petulantly. "She can't get better without it. I need to get back right now." _

_Boomer's speed had increased astronomically. He's never exhibited that kind of velocity before. Brick warily noted this unexpected twist as he shook off the pain. "You NEED to shower that stench off and come home. You're making us look bad in front of clients."_

_He blinked, lifting the sleeve of his shirt to his nose. "Do I smell? I didn't notice. Sorry. I've been so caught up in helping her and all that I guess I just forgot today." Boomer admitted with unfocused blue eyes and a bashful grin. Brick suppressed the urge to beat the crazy out of his brother. "I'll shower when I get home. She's waiting for me–"_

"_Cut the crap." Brick interrupted sharply. "No one's waiting for you in that dump. We've got access to the best head doctors in the country. Utilize them. You need to take care of yourself and forget about that disgusting_—_"_

"_Don't talk about her like that!" Boomer whined, his body tensing with distress._

"—_rotting_—_"_

"_SHUT UP!" Boomer lost all traces of hesitation and nervousness. A festering darkness peeked through his too-bright eyes. "I'm not like you. I can't_—_I won't abandon Bubbles. I take care of her. I take better care of her than you ever did of Blossom. I love her more than you_—_"_

"I never gave a damn about Blossom." Brick said furiously.

_Boomer blinked, as if surprised by that statement, and then smiled pityingly. "Still lying to yourself?" he asked condescendingly as he hovered a few feet off the ground. "How fucking sad." _

_Boomer shot out the door with a force that left a small crater where he stood, effortlessly dodging Brick's eyebeam._

"I remember I still need teach that moron to watch his mouth."

"Then you go deal with him." Butch straightens up. He runs his hands through his hair roughly, causing it stick up in all directions. "I'm sick of him and all the fucked up things he does in that room. I need a fucking break. If anyone wants me, tell them to fuck off."

Brick glares at his back. Who the fuck did Butch think he was, handing out orders to _him_?

"Off to another hike?" Brick asks dryly.

It has the desired effect. Butch stops abruptly. He clenches his hands, but shakes his head slightly and continues walking.

Brick leans against the back of his chair casually, watching Butch with dark red eyes. "You're really not that much different from Boomer."

Butch whirls around and takes slow, deliberate steps back to the table. He towers over Brick with narrowed green eyes seething with rage. Brick expects him to shout and scream because Butch knew better than to try and pick a physical fight with him. Instead, with his mouth curling derisively, Butch violently knocks over the empty chair across from Brick and sends it crashing into clusters of empty, rusted tables around them.

Brick flinches slightly from the unexpected, jarring noise of metal scrapping against metal and concrete. Butch notices and smiles viciously. It's the first time he's ever caught the scent of blood from his brother.

"Enjoy your little tea party of one in this dump." Butch sneers at Brick before taking off into the air.

Brick rises from his seat with more than half a mind to blast Butch across Townsville for that stunt. His temper burns hot underneath his skin as he tracks his brother's progress across the sky, his narrowed eyes glowing, _pulsing_, with a barely restrained laser beam. He's shaking with rage, not only at the disrespect, but also because Butch didn't even acknowledge that Blossom was there, sitting in that upturned chair and–

"Well that was rude," Blossom comments, standing behind Brick. His body tingles at her proximity. She apologizes to the people caught in Butch's fit and the crowd goes back to their conversations as toppled tables are righted and broken dishes are replaced. Blossom hunches over his shoulder, her chin tilted toward him. Her long red hair falls like a curtain around her face and his shoulder, cutting her off from view.

"You shouldn't go after him though. You both need time to cool down." she says quietly, her lips inches away from his ear.

Her soothing voice cuts through his murderous thoughts. His eyebeam flickers briefly before fading away. Brick takes a deep breath and enough anger leaves his body in the exhale for him to see the merit in her advice. Butch had moved out of his range anyway. She moves back as he stands up and pulls another chair over for her. "Forget him. He's not all up there anymore."

"No one is these days." she replies wistfully, twirling around him and sitting gracefully on her new seat.

"That's no excuse for insubordination. Those knuckleheads would be dead without me and this is the thanks I get?"

She studies him closely. "Is this really about feeling underappreciated?"

"It's not about useless sentiments. It's about _respect_."

"Two sides of the same coin."

"Enough with your dumb idioms." He scowls at her.

"I thought that one was rather appropriate." she muses, looking up at the sky. "What time is it? I have to leave at 8:32."

He checks his cell phone and tells her the time, even going as far as setting the alarm on his phone, before placing it on the table. When he looks up, she is fiddling nervously with the end of her scarf. The change is so subtle that he almost misses it. He can't be sure, but something in her posture sets off alarm bells in his head.

"Butch makes a good point though." she says, taking another sip of her drink. "You haven't seen Boomer in a while and Bubbles was supposed to meet up with me months ago. You should go visit them. I hear your brother's been…" Blossom pauses, searching for the right word, "_off_."

"That's the understatement of the year. He's lost his head over that sister of yours." Brick glares at her as if to say it was her fault.

"I doubt that's all he's lost." Blossom sighs, meeting his glare. "You have to talk to him. The way he's been acting isn't healthy."

"Why don't you do it if you're so concerned?"

"I've got no hold on him. You're the only one he'll listen to and you know it."

He scoffs. "Fuck if I care. I'm not his keeper."

"And I suppose you're mine?"

Her penetrating gaze catches him off guard. "What?"

"_More effective measures need to be taken for future viewings. The buyers couldn't appreciate the presentation with all that screaming." the General frowned. _

"_Perhaps we should suspend further showcases until we can find a better alternative." Brick suggested in a carefully neutral voice. He willed his bones to stop rattling at the still fresh memory of Blossom's left eyebeam searing through her closed eyelid, and how she screamed and screamed and fucking wouldn't stop screaming. "Or at the very least consider anesthesia as an option."_

"_No, that would numb the receptors that we need to stay active. I think paralysis is our best bet. Target the muscles in her arms and legs so she can't thrash around and also her throat to keep her quiet." _

_Some small body twitch gave Brick away. "Don't worry," the General said, "it'll wear off in a few hours."_

"_With all due respect, the only thing I worry about is getting the job done." _

_The next viewing went smoothly. The lectures were informative and the live demonstrations complemented the theories appropriately. Blossom still made noise, but the guests couldn't hear the high-pitched screams. Brick, however, with his ultra sensitive ears, heard every painful sound that escaped Blossom's paralyzed lips._

_The only thing Brick cared about is the job. He doesn't worry about anything or anyone else. And ninety-five percent of the time, he believed it too._

"You care about what happens to me more than what happens to Boomer. I mean, you definitely talk to me more than you talk to him. As a brother, as the _oldest_ brother, if you're not taking care of him, then what good are you?"

His anger ignites. She's taking too much liberty with him. Who is she to presume to know anything about the dynamics of his team? He leans toward her aggressively, muscles tense and locked, ready to cut her down. "What makes you think I give a damn about you at all?"

"You mean besides what I just said?" she asks sarcastically, lifting her drink.

"I talk to you because you can't take a hint and leave me the hell alone. It's fucking impossible to ignore you if you're hovering around me all the time."

She pauses, lips still on the rim of her cup. He savors the small victory.

"That's really nice of you, Brick." Blossom says with a quiet hurt, placing the cup back on the table. "Real nice."

_A hand grabbed Boomer's arm, stopping him from administering the last batch of Antidote X to the pink mug. He turned around smoothly, a clever alibi on the tip of his tongue, only to come face to face with Brick._

"_That isn't necessary." Brick said, pocketing the small vial._

"_Is something wrong?" Boomer asked. Then, with a sliver of hope in his voice, "Are we aborting the–"_

"_We're still proceeding with the plan," Brick interrupted, "just not her."_

_Boomer absorbed the news with difficulty. "Why not her? Why does Blossom get the free pass and not Bubbles? What makes her so special?"_

_Brick hissed at him to quiet down. He saw rebellion churning in those dark blue eyes. The idiot just had to get attached. If Boomer had been smarter, it would've been the other way around, like how it was with him and Blossom._

"_She's special because she's the first." Brick snatched the pink cup off the counter. He made his way toward the door separating the kitchen from the living room where the others were gathered. Brick spared a baleful glance at Boomer. "The company has other plans for her."_

_He nudged the door open. Blossom sat next to her sobbing blonde sister on the couch and rubbed her back soothingly. Butch and Buttercup stood at the farthest end of the room and shared an uncomfortable look over the situation. Blossom looked up and Brick could see the tension lining her shoulders. Rising gracefully, she crossed the room, pink eyes flickering over to him briefly before she twisted around him and stopped in front of Boomer. _

_Brick watched her lean close—too close—to his brother and whisper something in his ear. Boomer watched Brick's face closely as he inclined his head so that his short blond hair tangled briefly with her red bangs. Brick's guts knotted uncomfortably at the sight. Something must have shown on his face because Boomer smirked and lightly rested a hand on Blossom's back in a ghost of an embrace. _

_There was a change in air pressure as Brick honed his super-hearing onto their conversation._

"…_and I know it's the last thing you want to be to her, but she desperately needs a friend right now with this whole Mac fiasco."_

_Brick watched Boomer nod and rub her back comfortingly with slightly narrowed eyes._

"_Of course," Boomer replied understandingly, drawing her into a tight embrace, all the while looking at Brick smugly. "You can count on me."_

_Blossom sunk into his arms and returned the gesture. "Thanks, Boomer."_

_That little fucker. Brick gritted his teeth, his face heating up with rage._

_Butch walked over and grabbed the green mug from the tray Boomer held in his free hand. "Bro, you need to get her to turn off the waterworks before we all drown." Giving the blond a pointed look, he went back to Buttercup and handed her the hot chocolate. "Careful, it's hot stuff."_

_Boomer moved toward the couch, wisely maneuvering around Brick, and sat next to Bubbles. Brick walked up to Blossom and handed her the mug. She accepted it with a grateful smile: fingers brushing, tangling, and separating reluctantly. _

"_Thanks." _

_Brick watched her take a deep sip, vaguely registering Boomer's voice behind him coaxing Bubbles to take the poison._

The defeat in her voice makes him clench his teeth. Her unwillingness to fight_—fucking feelings_—is messing everything up again. "What's wrong with you today?"

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that bullshit. If you've got a problem, lay it out on the table."

"I thought you didn't care about my feelings."

"You're passive aggressive evasion tactic is charming. Now answer the question."

She tilts her head to the side and looks at him contemplatively. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

_Are you sure you can handle it, Brick?_

His patience frays at the challenge. "So your problem's with me then."

"It always is, isn't it?" Blossom says, leaning back in her chair. Her face settles into a calm expression. There's no sign of her initial hesitance. "Fine. Let's talk about it."

"It?" he asks warily, feeling like he's lost control of the situation.

"My problem with you and what you did, what all of you did."

She sounds disappointed.

"I've done a lot of things." he replies, managing to instill some bite into those words. "Care to be a little more specific?"

Blossom glances at him from the corner of her eyes "Avoiding the issue isn't your style, Brick, but if you insist, why don't I show you?"

She changes then, flickering into something terrifying and grotesque. He stops breathing.

Then, before his brain can process the transformation, she's back to normal, taking another sip of hot chocolate. Blossom casually brushes her hair**—**hair that she didn't have a second ago, or rather had in uneven patches across her head along with crude surgical scars branching across the bald spots**—**away from her eyes as she waits for him to recover.

"What the…" His composure slips a little before he steels himself and tries again. "What the hell was _that_?"

She looks at him with faint disapproval lurking in her gaze. "_That_ is what we're going to talk about so please stop pretending like you don't know anything."

Brick hears the trap click shut in the back of his mind. He's unprepared for this and only his ironclad policy to never back down**—**_especially_ from Blossom**—**keeps him seated. He faintly registers the lack of noise and looks around.

They were the only ones left.

"It's not like you to lie to yourself, you know." Blossom says quietly.

He's tense and pissed off**—**because who the fuck was she to tell him anything about himself anyway?**—**but deep down, he knows she's right. It leaves such a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

He knows it because he while he is unsettled and disgusted and angry, he is not surprised at that brief image of her: not at the scars or the lack of hair or the seared bits of skin or the puncture wounds circling her throat like a noose.

He isn't surprised because he's seen it before and he knows how she got each and every mark.

"_I thought you said you were off to the pool hall." Blossom said, surprised but pleased that he was there. _

"_I am." Brick twisted a chair backwards and sat down, sliding a black velvet box across the table. "I'm just dropping this off first." _

_It came to a stop, bumping the spine of her literature book. He heard her breath catch and his lips curled up crookedly. _

"_W-What's this?"_

"_I believe it's called a gift," he drawled. "Word around town is that today's your birthday."_

_She looked up in surprise. "Oh, it is. I just–" she stopped talking, her slender fingers ghosting over the box. Blushing, she tilted her head away, a nervous gesture he recognized as shyness. "I mean, you didn't say anything all day so I thought you didn't know or forgot."_

"_Wrong again, Utonium. I don't forget."_

_Blossom eagerly plucked up the box. "What is it?" Lifting the lid, she stared at the contents in disbelief. "Brick," she breathed, astonished. "You didn't." _

_It was the necklace that had been on the window display at the jewelry store several months ago. She passed by it every day, admiring the craftsmanship of the red ribbon-laced chain and the luminescent ruby. She was dismayed when it was gone two weeks later, silently consoling herself that it was too expensive to justify buying anyway. After all, she could hardly wear something so extravagant during her patrols. _

"_How did you know?" she asked, touching the stone. _

"_I told you," he replied smoothly, "I don't forget." He had seen her gazing longingly at the trinket during the few times he walked with her to school._

"_I can't accept this. It's too much." She slowly pushed it back to him only to have him stop her._

"_It's a gift. You're obligated to take it."_

"_It's too expensive!"_

"_I'm throwing it away if you give it back to me."_

_She snatched the necklace out of the box protectively. "Well, if you're sure," she said flustered._

"_What the hell am I going to do with it if you don't take it?" _

_Blossom unclasped the chain and drew it around her neck with a smile. "I guess you're right. It's not really your style, even if it's red." she teased. "What do you think?" _

_The stone dangled several inches below her collarbone, glinting in the light. _

"_You look like a present." he pointed at the way the ribbon settled into a bow at the top of the stone. _

_Her laughter tinkled in the air. "Do I? Are you planning to give me to that slave-driving boss of yours for a promotion?"_

"_Not a bad idea."_

"_You're awful." Touching the jewel, her eyes sparkled warmly at him, "Thank you, Brick."_

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he drops his gaze and tightly grips her necklace in his hand. The chain digs into his palm and the pressure of it eases some of the tension in his body. "This isn't real."

"No," Blossom concedes, "but your neglect is real. The feelings you've been avoiding are real."

He stares unblinkingly at a spot on the table and sees her hand resting near her cup out of his peripherals. He thinks that if he blinks, it will disappear. "You're dead." He tests the phrase on his tongue. It's strange, saying it out loud didn't make it feel real.

Her fingernails tap gently against the iron wrought table, catching his attention. He blinks. She's still there. It's comforting.

"Then why am I here?"

"You're haunting me."

The sun sinks lower, casting long shadows on the ground. Night is creeping in around the edges.

"Well, I guess that's partially true. It's a start." Blossom crosses her legs in a way that never fails to catch his eye. _Bitch_.

"Why are you here, Brick?"

"Habit. We've been getting drinks here every Sunday for two years." He shrugs and finally raises his head to meet her gaze. Behind her, Townsville looks as though it caught fire, a stretch of blackened buildings amidst a red-orange sky. Her face is veiled in shadows, making it difficult for him to see her features clearly, and her hair glimmers like copper in the fading light. It hurts to look at her.

Blossom runs her hand through her long hair with a sad curve of her lips. "Yes, ever since we were fourteen. But you've been sitting here for quite a while now, haven't you?"

"You're always late. I'm used to it."

"Six months late? Most people would think I wasn't coming."

"But you always do. You always come eventually."

"So it seems." She exhales loudly, closing her eyes. When she opens them, they are a deep pink hue that matches the wisps of pink in the sunset sky behind her.

"You have to stop this." she tells him quietly. Something inside him aches and churns. "All of it. You can't keep doing this. You know that. Boomer and Butch too. Help them."

The necklace digs deeper into his palm. "Why should I?"

"Because you're their leader, their oldest _brother_." Blossom stresses earnestly, leaning forward. "Have you forgotten that? They're family. It's your responsibility to keep them safe."

Something vicious darkens his face. "Don't preach at me. You did a pretty shitty job protecting _your_ family." She flinches away and he goes in for the kill, teeth bared and gleaming sharply in the dying light. "At least Butch and Boomer are still _alive_."

The sun sinks beneath the horizon. All along the road, the streetlights flicker on, illuminating the hurt on her face.

"That was really cruel, Brick," she murmurs, "even for you."

_She jumped when he entered the poorly lit cell and clumsily backed into the furthest corner like a beaten dog. Her good eye squinted in the light and it took a moment before she recognized him. He blanched inwardly at the intense relief that dawned on her face. _

"_Brick, you came!" _

_She took several hurried steps toward him. The light pouring in from the corridor showed the extent of her wounds. "I was so worried about you." _

_Worrying about her enemy. How fucking laughable was that? _

"_After the attack at City Hall, when you went down, I couldn't find you. Then this company, this evil company ambushed me and dragged me here and-" she struggled to push the words out of her mouth, "and experimented on me. They're trying to utilize our powers, our genetic makeup for something…advanced weaponry, I think? I don't know. I don't know! I think they're after the others too. I don't think they've gotten a hold of them though. I'm the only one they talk about. We've got to out of here!" She moved closer to him, eager for the freedom he offered but stopped short when she finally registered the details of his uniform. "Wh-What are you wearing?" The shock froze her desperate expression as her eyes roamed his body. "Did you steal that outfit to break in?" _

_She took a tentative step forward but the light glinting off of the metal trimmings on his uniform struck her bad eye—the one with the dangling piece of skin that used to be an eyelid—and she stumbled back wincing. _

"_Brick? Why aren't you saying anything?" Her voice was small with an uncertainty that quickly festered into panic and fear in the continuing silence. _

"_Brick." Blossom tremulously murmured, looking every bit like a lost, newly orphaned child. "Where are my sisters?"_

_Brick willed himself to feel nothing. He took the food tray from the guard posted outside her cell and walked inside. He dropped it on the metal slab in the center of the room. The impact echoed like a church bell toll. _

_Her expression crumpled. She covered her mouth with her hands, breathing harshly and stumbling backwards. She recognized her daily rations. _

_This was the end. _

_Blossom backed away slowly, furiously shaking her head from side to side as if she could dislodge the image from her head. The red scars on her scalp blurred with the movement, creating a maniacal, phantom grin hanging over her head._

"_No." She crashed back into the corner. "Nononono."_

Brick turned away and walked out. He didn't know what it would do to him to watch Blossom go into shock and he didn't want to find out. However, something beyond his control made him look back. His eyes locked onto her horrified expression. He could almost see the lines fissuring across her face as she fell apart.

"_They trusted you. They trusted you." she chanted, clawing at her head as she rocked back and forth on her feet. Her scars broke open. Blood ran down her fingers, hands, arms, and face. "They trusted you. We trusted you. I trusted you." _

_She shook violently. Her voice rose as the implication sank in, eyes widening in horror. Forcing his feet to move faster, he moved past the guards stationed at the entrance and flew up the stairs, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. _

_He didn't move fast enough._

"_I TRUSTED YOU WITH ALL OF THEM!"_

_Her piercing shriek echoed through the corridor and dogged his footsteps long after the door slammed shut._

He can taste her bitterness in the back of his mouth, but keeps quiet. He's not sorry. He doesn't care. It didn't matter anymore. "It's the truth."

"You can't possibly think what you boys are doing now qualifies as living."

"I don't think _you're_ qualified to tell me what's living and what's not."

"Well I _know_ I'm the best person to give you some perspective on it." Of course she thinks she knows. Bossy Little Blossom. It almost makes him smile. "Why else do you think I'm here?"

"Vengeance?" Brick asks, affecting disinterest.

Blossom slants an exasperated glare at him. "Hardly."

Her answer surprises him. "When did you become so forgiving?"

Her finger traces the rim of her cup. "There's nothing to forgive if there's no apology." she says lightly, dropping her gaze to the table. "Besides, I'm not interested in revenge."

Brick tilts his head, studying her closely. "Why not?"

Her eyes crinkle as she smiles cheerlessly. "You know why."

_The screen flashed red as the security system threatened to alert the entire building sector of a breech. Brick calmly entered the code to override this last defense and watched as the warning message flickered away. He inserted a disc into the driver and deftly ran his fingers over the keyboard. Camera 8 was Blossom's cell. She was lying listlessly on the bed, swinging an arm over the edge occasionally. He recorded that moment along with other feeds of people standing guard in the hallways and looped it onto the disc. After securing the live feed to his personal laptop, he replaced it with the looped sample and exited the system, making sure to restore all the firewalls and security systems he disabled. _

_Brick meticulously packed up his gear and checked his watch. 7:15. He had an hour before his meeting and if he took all the other variables into account, that gave him less than ten minutes to reach her. He reached into his pocket and pressed a button on the remote, shutting down the vent system so that the gas machine full of Chemical X would only flow into her cell. He left the security room, side-stepping the two dead guards in the swivel chairs, and quickly made his way to the cafeteria. After piling up the food on the tray, he poured a vial of Chemical X on the plate to speed up the healing process. It fizzled on contact before sinking into the food without a trace. _

_Five minutes later, Blossom heard the door open. She didn't stir at the noise and continued to stare at the ceiling. The vents had turned off a little while ago but she could still see faint puffs of cool air pass through the grate and waited to feel it against her skin. Something slid across the floor before the door closed again. Several minutes ticked by before Blossom curiously turned her head to face the door. She hadn't heard the lock click back into place._

_The smell of fresh food wafted to her nose. She sat up cautiously and stared disbelievingly at the heap of hot, fragrant food. Her jaw grew tense from hunger and heavy with saliva. Blossom tried to rationalize why it was here. She'd only ever been given the smallest rations of stale bread and soggy vegetables straight from the can. It was a trick. It was poisoned. It was a figment of her imagination. Her stomach growled loudly and she couldn't help but dive for the food. Even if it turned out to be poisoned, she would at least die with a full stomach and the taste of pot roast on her tongue. She coaxed herself to eat slowly, knowing her stomach was too shriveled up to digest such a large meal so fast, and wept silently at this small sign of mercy._

_She lifted the plate off the tray to bring the food closer to her when she saw the folded piece of paper hidden underneath the plate. Cautiously, she balanced the plate on her folded legs and examined the paper. "Breathe deep and eat fast. Find him here." It wasn't signed, but the handwriting was vaguely familiar as if she used to see it often a very long time ago. Blossom unfolded the paper and froze. _

_It was a floor plan. The same handwriting noted important sectors: research labs, security systems, and weapon storages. Several rooms were circled with names of what had to be high-ranking members of the company. One particular room located in the furthest sector of the compound had a large "x" marked over it. She knew that was where she'd find the one responsible for everything. That was where she'd find Brick._

_But why now? Even with this information, she was injured and powerless in an armed and guarded facility. Was this some sort of sick joke to him? Frustrated, she threw the paper away and took a deep, calming breath. Suddenly, her scalp tingled uncomfortably. Tiny needle-like sensations erupted all over her body. _

_She tensed, expecting pain, but found her body healing itself right before her eyes. Wounds closed. Scars scabbed over and peeled off, revealing unblemished skin. Her bad eye stopped aching and the damaged eyelid knitted itself back together. She could feel her hair growing back. There was no doubt that she was somehow being exposed to Chemical X at that moment. The question was: how? Was it the food? No. It would take much longer for it to take effect if she had ingested it. Her eyes glanced around the room and her sharpened senses picked up the faint puffs of air flowing through the vents. She could have sworn it had been turned off before._

_In an instant, she was hovering by the vent, taking deep breaths of the airborne Chemical X. She couldn't waste a second to marvel at her ability to fly again. She needed to be at full power if she was going to get out of this place alive. The tingling sensation intensified. She felt herself getting stronger. Carefully, she blew the air out of her lungs and nearly cried when snow and ice came out. _

_Blossom returned to her meal and began to shove the food down, certain that her stomach could process it all now with no problem. She needed the fuel. Picking up the cup, she sniffed it and realized it was hot chocolate. _

_Brick. _

_What was he up to?_

_It didn't matter. She had a map and a list of targets to take out. She was going to make sure what happened to her would never happen to anyone. She was going to tear this place apart and make them all pay for what they did to her. She was going to find Brick—'x' marks the spot—and kill him. _

"_Good girl." Brick said, watching from his laptop as Blossom drank the bittersweet liquid down in one gulp and threw her cup against the wall, shattering it on impact._

"I'd have to be angry to seek revenge and I'm not anymore. I was surprised and _very_ angry when it happened, but now I'm just tired."

"I don't understand why you'd be surprised. You couldn't have believed that we wouldn't hurt you girls."

Her finger stills on the cup. "There's a difference," she says slowly, "between knowing and hoping. I was in love with you, after all."

_I was in love you, was in love with you, was in love, with you, was, was, was_–

–meaning that she isn't anymore. Brick scoffs. He watches the steam twist and curl around her finger and tells himself he doesn't care, doesn't care that she most likely hates him now because that's the way it should've been before everything got complicated and _fucked up_ with feelings. Besides, it really doesn't matter anymore.

"What time is it now?" she asks.

"8:15." he answers after glancing at his phone.

"Okay, just checking." She nods. "Anyway, it doesn't matter to me anymore. It's almost over."

"Almost?"

She smiles softly. "So what do you say, Brick?"

"Are you asking for an apology?"

"We both want the same thing. We want Boomer to get better, but that's not going to happen if he keeps Bubbles."

"You want me to knock the crazy out of him?"

"Don't call him crazy. He's mourning."

Somehow, that rebuke hurts him. Brick swallows to get rid of the tightness in his throat. Whatever Boomer was going through didn't look like mourning so much as it did denial. With Blossom sitting across from him, Brick feels as though he understands his brother's madness just a little bit better.

"If I do this, what happens to you?" he asks quietly.

"Do you want me to go away?"

_No._

"I just want to know."

"It's a little late to pretend you care about me, don't you think?" She tilts her head to the side and laughs self-deprecatingly. "Then again, you were so good at it."

_Blossom dug frantically in another pile of rubble, tossing huge pieces of sheetrock away. It had to be here somewhere. She couldn't believe she lost it. She should have never worn it. What had she been thinking?_

"_Looking for something?"_

_She spun around with a gasp, her hair fanning out and spilling over her shoulder. "Brick! Um, fancy seeing you here."_

"_I heard about the monster attack. Thought I'd lend a hand since there was nothing else to do, but looks like you have it covered." He pointed to the unconscious creature several yards away._

"_Well, you know me! Always prepared for the worst and all." she said with a forced smile. "These things sure are coming to the city a lot more often these days."_

"_Why are you rummaging in the debris?"_

"_Rummaging? Me?" she sputtered. "You've got it all wrong. I was…clearing the streets! You know, trying to give the construction workers a hand. They can't begin the repairs if the paths are blocked."_

_They both looked around. Blossom had haphazardly thrown the broken rocks and cement blocks onto the road, creating a nightmare obstacle course for the incoming construction workers. _

"_Right." Brick said flatly. "It looks like you've done enough. Why don't you go home and shower? I don't think I've ever seen you so dirty before."_

_Suddenly self-conscious, she patted her hair. A small dust cloud rose out. Mortified, she looked down at her hands and saw them smudged with dirt. "Right. Ok. I'll see you at home." she squeaked, taking off in a flash of pink light._

_After finishing her shower, Blossom sat in front of her vanity brushing her recently hair and tried to gather up the courage to tell Brick what happened to her necklace. She thought about sneaking away to look again, but knew it was hopeless. It had most likely been crushed underneath all the building debris._

_A knock sounded. She glanced at the reflection of the door in her mirror. "Come in." Brick entered and closed the door behind him. Her heart thundered in her chest. "Brick! Is there something wrong?"_

"_I just wanted to let you know the streets are all cleared. I had Butch and Boomer help clean up the mess you made. Reconstruction should begin tomorrow without a hitch."_

"_Oh," She turned around to face him directly. "You didn't have to do that, but thanks. I'm sure the mayor appreciates it."_

_He snorted. "The mayor is a fucking waste of space. He doesn't know anything about what's going on in Townsville. I can't believe he hasn't been canned."_

"_Language." Blossom said disapprovingly. "And that's not a nice thing to say about him. The mayor is doing the best he can." _

"_That's a terrifying thought. I'd hate to see what would happen to this place if he didn't give a shit." He ignored Blossom's glare and reached in his pocket. "Speaking of 'not nice', I don't think it's nice for someone to lose a gift either." _

_He pulled the necklace out and hung it on his fingers. The stone dropped from his hand and the chain tinkered as it unraveled._

_Blossom gasped. "Where did you find it?" She rushed over to him and inspected the necklace. Much to her dismay, she could see that the ruby had chipped in one corner and the chain had been scratched._

"_It slipped into a sewer grate. Lucky thing too. It would've been crushed if it were on the streets."_

"_I'm so sorry. I didn't know how to tell you. I tried looking for it, but I couldn't find it and now it's broken."_

"_How is it broken? It's a necklace. It doesn't do anything other than hang from your neck."_

"_It's chipped!"_

"_Wait. You don't want it now because of a small crack? Do you know how much this thing cost? I fucking picked it out of the sewer and cleaned it for you."_

"_Don't curse at me! I do want it. I'm just upset with myself because I shouldn't have worn it in the first place and now it's ruined."_

"_Not if you wear it."_

_Blossom looked at him, stunned. She couldn't believe he had said that, was convinced she had misheard him. Suddenly he was there, moving closer to her. He undid the clasp and gently reached around her neck, resting the stone on her collarbone, before securing the chain again. She felt his breath ghost across her face and she couldn't look away. His body heat radiated off of him in waves, making her body temperature rise in response. He gathered her hair out from under the chain and slowly allowed it to fall back over her shoulder, letting the long strands slide through his fingers like a caress. His eyes follow the movement of her hair before looking back to her face, lingering on her lips. _

_Blossom hardly dared to breathe. _

_Looking up at him with wonder in her eyes, she searched his face for some sign that would let her know what he was feeling. His eyes softened. It was such a small change that she would've missed it had her eyes not been riveted to his face. Everything seemed to freeze. She was so hyperaware of his body and his scent that it took her a moment to realize one key thing. _

_Brick wasn't moving away. _

_Slowly, his head ducked closer to hers. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, was sure he could feel the vibrations from it through the air. She couldn't tear her gaze away from his dark red eyes. She wanted him to kiss her, wanted it more than anything in the world. She couldn't stop wanting him no matter how hard she tried to ignore and deny her desires. It kept growing inside her like a poison, threatening to destroy her with the intensity of her feelings. And finally—finally!—it seemed like he felt something for her too. He was in her room and he was looking at her with those mesmerizing eyes and he was so handsome and his lips were hovering so close to hers and—_

_Please, she thought longingly, tilting her chin up. Please, please, please just kiss me, just once._

_Someone pounded on her door._

"_Blossom? We have a situation here." Buttercup called._

_Immediately, Brick pulled away and turned around. Blossom barely managed to hold back a frustrated cry. She was going to kill Buttercup._

"_Hey, did you hear me?" Buttercup demanded as she opened the door. "Girl, we've got a major situ-"Buttercup paused when she saw Brick was in the room too. "Am I interrupting something?" she asked incredulously, hardly able to believe something could possibly happen between Brick and Blossom._

_Blossom cleared her throat. "What's the problem, Buttercup?"_

"_It's Bubbles. She in full meltdown mode over Mac. It looks bad, Blossom. I don't know how to handle her when she's like this. You have to do something."_

"_Right, of course. Where is she now?" Blossom asked, her brows furrowed in concern. _

"_She's in the living room. Boomer's getting everyone a drink in the kitchen and Butch is standing around being useless as usual."_

"_I'll be right down." Blossom promised. "Just make sure Bubbles doesn't do anything rash like go off on her own trying to find him. You know what happened the last time she did that."_

_Buttercup cringed and nodded. After she left, Blossom looked at Brick. He was tinkering with the things on her vanity. Disappointment swelled inside her chest. The moment had passed._

"_Looks like I have to go take care of that." Blossom said weakly. _

_Brick nodded absently. "You go ahead. I'll check on Boomer in the kitchen." He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. "I'll see if I can get the necklace fixed if it's really bothering you."_

"_No no! It's fine. Really. I'm just glad to have it back." Blossom said, touched by his offer. "Thanks though. It means a lot to me." she smiled._

"_After you." Brick said, moving toward the door._

He thinks about giving the necklace back to her, seriously considers taking it out and putting it on the table. If nothing else, he wants her to know that her gift was real. He bought it for her because she wanted it, and he wanted to give it to her. No strings attached. Brick rubs his thumb over the crack in the stone and grits his teeth. For the life of him, he can't get his hand to let go. It's all he has left of her.

The thought angers him almost as much as it hurts him.

"Maybe I did care about you." he confesses softly, bitterly, looking away. "Maybe that was the problem all along. I fucking cared. Back then, I fucked up and cared about you. I cared so fucking much. Even now, I don't know how to stop."

She doesn't say anything. It's probably for the best, plausible deniability and all. It isn't too late for him to recover from this lapse into insanity. He chances a look at her. She's staring vacantly off to the side, pink eyes dark and vacant. His heart pounds anxiously in his chest.

"Blossom? Did you hear me?"

"Hm?" She snaps out of it and looks at him curiously. It instantly calms him down. "Did you say something, Brick?"

_Deny it,_ he thinks. _Don't be a fucking idiot. What good is it going to do you now?_ But he couldn't stop. It's important to him that she knows. He _needs_ her to know.

"I love you." he blurts out in a rush. The words feel strange on his tongue and they trip clumsily out of his mouth. He's not even sure it's completely true but he needs her to believe him. If there could be a possibility for her to have feelings for him again, she needed to believe him. He isn't sure he knows how to act, knowing she didn't love him anymore.

"You love me?" she asks laughing, suppressing a smile so hard that it makes her frown.

"Yes." he admits with no small amount of shame and humiliation. "Don't fucking laugh. You think this is funny?"

"No." she says with a miserable smile. "I don't think it's funny. It's actually kind of sad."

"You don't believe me." Brick feels as though he's suffocating. His chest tightens unbearably and it's painful to breathe. He can't let her see him this way. _Get it fucking together_.

"Does it matter?"

"How could it not matter?" Brick hisses, furious that this is how she reacts. Didn't she know what it cost him to say these things? _Didn't she know?_

Blossom sighs, closing her eyes. "Even if you did, it wasn't enough. You didn't save me, or my sisters, or your brothers. I don't even know if you saved yourself in the end."

"Don't be stupid." he snaps heatedly, "Of course I did."

"_You wanted to see me, Brick?"_

"_Yes," Brick walked off to the side of the office rather than up to the desk. "There was something I wanted to speak to you about. I came across some files recently and it changed my perception about this company." _

_He threw the manila folder onto the desk. The General picked it up and thumbed through it. "I don't see your point. This is Project X. You've been working on this quite some time."_

"_My brothers and I agreed to work for this company years ago because it paid well and gave us plenty of leeway to handle business the way I saw fit." Brick said, taking a step closer to the stocky man behind the large oak desk. "Initially when you had shown interest in the Powerpuff Girls, I brushed it off as a natural curiosity about the first X-beings. When you didn't let up though, and gave them to us as an assignment, I did a little digging of my own."_

"_Just what exactly are you getting at?" the General demanded, his foot discretely inching toward the panic button on the floor beneath his desk._

"_You should know better than to leave a paper trail when you're planning a double-cross. Project X was presented as a way to monopolize the weapons market with firearms based off our powers. What you left out was that it was also a plan to render X-beings ordinary." Brick spat the last word out distastefully. _

"_Don't be absurd. You were there at the showcases. You knew we had clients interested in X-enhanced security."_

"_I also know about the shots you gave us laced with inactive Antidote X. By the way, Boomer took care of that easily enough." Brick said with narrowed his eyes. "All you were missing was an actual X-being to experiment on and test your theories about what would do the most damage to us. Blossom seemed to work nicely since she was the first, and I know how scientists love testing things out on the original. You see, I've been onto you for a while now. I went along to see how far you'd get and what you'd learn about us. Now that I've got copies of your research, I really don't have any more use for you at all." _

"_You think you can just walk out of here with those files unscathed? You'll never make it out of here alive."_

"_That's where you're wrong. I've already won."_

"_We'll see about that." He pulled out a gun and trained it on Brick. "I trust you came across this when you were sticking your nose where it didn't belong. It's a double barrel semiautomatic. One chamber's loaded with a bullet full of enough Antidote X to render your impenetrable skin vulnerable. The other chamber's got grenade bullets that explode on impact. It'll shred you to pieces."_

"_I'm shaking in my boots." Brick said flatly._

_Suddenly, the door was ripped off its hinges and tossed to the side. Blossom stood in the doorway in all her former glory: pink eyes clear and sharp, her long hair flowing behind her. Startled, the General made the mistake of taking his eyes off Brick. The gun was quickly shot out of his hands, leaving him completely defenseless. Blossom quickly scanned the room, noting a man behind the desk and Brick standing in the corner. Her eyes snapped back to the frozen man behind the desk. _

"_You!" she growled, her body crackling with pink energy. "You're the one who did those vile showcases."_

"_Guards!" the General shrieked, stamping his foot on the panic button now. "Guards!"_

"_Don't bother," Brick said in a bored tone. "I disconnected the communication and alarm wires."_

"_You wanted to see how strong my eyebeam is? Let me give you a proper demonstration." Blossom said furiously, her eyes glowing red._

_The General screamed, hastily begging for mercy but it was no use. Blossom fired her eyebeam, slicing through the desk like butter, and incinerated him. The air was filled with the General's dying screams and the smell of burnt flesh and hair. When Blossom was done, only the charred skeletal remains were left. Brick looked at her in awe. Blossom's eyes lightened to their natural pink coloring, but they were bloodshot. He could still see the red shine of her eyebeam just beneath the surface. There was no remorse in her posture. She remained on guard and tense, ready to viciously cut down the next person in her way. _

_This was the darkness in her come to light. _

"_I always knew you had it in you." Brick praised quietly._

"_Where are my sisters, you traitor?" she hissed, her eyes flaring red again as she turned to face him. _

_The smell of gasoline and smoke reached his nose from the hallway. It seemed as though she put the map he gave her to good use and made some stops along the way to this office._

"_Dead."_

_Blossom knew. She had to have known. Nevertheless, Brick watched her face crumple in grief. She was devastated. With a pained cry, she fired a huge energy blast in his direction. Brick dodged it easily and watched as the wall behind him exploded. It filled the room with dust and made it difficult to see._

"_Why did you do it?" Blossom shouted, scanning the darkened room for him. "Answer me!" _

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

_The impact knocked the air out of her lungs and sent her flying against the wall next to the door. When she reached for her next breath, liquid filled her lungs. Dazed, she felt something wet soak through her shirt. Slowly, she touched her hand to her chest and brought it up to her face. It was covered in sticky dark blood. Brick moved into her line of vision, the smoking gun in his hand. His knees cracked as he bent down and looked her in the eyes, tossing the gun behind him. _

"_It's nothing personal." Brick tucked a finger underneath her chin and tilted her head toward his. She jerked out of his hold but he grabbed her jaw firmly in his hand and forced her to look at him. He could see tears well up in her eyes. "You were just collateral damage." he murmured, before closing the gap between them in a gentle kiss._

_She kept her eyes opened, staring him down. He did the same. Even after everything, she couldn't help thinking that he really did have beautiful eyes. The tears spilled down her face. She tried lifting her hands to push him away, to blast a hole through the empty space where his heart would've been, but she was too weak from blood loss and her arms could only twitch by her side. Letting out a quiet moan, Brick's eyes slipped shut and he pressed harder against her lips. He took his time, pulling her full lower lip into his mouth before slipping his tongue inside her to taste her, stroking her tongue roughly. He pulled away slowly and rested his forehead against hers. _

_It was everything she had thought it would be. _

_Blossom let out a choking sob, gasping for air. Blood erupted from her mouth and poured down her shirt. Some of it splattered onto his chin and onto the medals decorating his uniform. _

"_I know it hurts, but it'll be over soon." Brick said, lacing his fingers with hers. _

_He felt her body tense. "Don't touch me. Don't you ever touch me again."_

_A bright pink flash filled the room as she forced an energy blast through their interlocked hands, forcing him to let go, and sent him crashing through several walls. Wincing, he pulled himself out of the rubble and hissed at his singed hand. It was impressive that she managed to hit him with such force considering the Antidote X he shot into her system and the bullet shrapnel in her chest. When he flew back inside the office, she was slumped against the wall with blood streaming out of her wounds. _

_He landed in front of her and nudged her leg with his foot. She remained motionless, her empty pink eyes staring off into the distance._

"_Brick," Butch's voice crackled through the earpiece Brick wore. "We sealed the entrances. What do you want us to do out here? People are starting to panic with all those explosions and shit."_

_Brick glances at the fallen clock on the wall. The batteries had popped out. It was stuck on 8:32. He took one last look at Blossom before shooting out the doorway and issuing out his order._

"_No survivors. Burn it to the ground."_

"Then why are you here?" Blossom asked, leaning toward him across the table.

"I don't _fucking know, alright?_" Brick lets out a growl and stands up. "Do you want me to leave? Is that why you're always fucking asking me that goddamn question? You want me to go? _I will! I'm not fucking afraid of leaving_."

He stares down at her, furious that she's so cool and collected when he feels so unhinged, so completely out of control because of her. It was always because of her. How could she just sit there like everything didn't matter, like _he_ didn't matter? He _would _leave. He'd leave and never come back to this dump café and this shithole of a town with its fucking mayor and its fucking superheroes and its fucking _memories_.

"Of course I don't want you to leave. Sit down, Brick." Blossom gestures to his chair placatingly.

His anger flows out of him like smoke and he collapses back into the chair. He's relieved she's not sending him away. The tightness in his chest is still there though, and suddenly he's just so tired of it all. He wants everything to stop and go back to the way they were.

"What do you want from me?" he asks wearily.

"I want my sister." she says. "Please give her back to me."

"I don't have her."

"Buttercup and I have been waiting so long for her, but she can't come because Boomer's keeping her from us. Please, Brick?" she implores. Brick thinks she's close to tears but her eyes are dry and focused.

His cell phone alarm goes off.

Blood suddenly wells out of her mouth and spills down her chin. He can see dark red spots blossoming all over her chest, soaking through her white scarf like gauze wrapped around a mortal wound.

She's dying all over again, right before his eyes.

"She needs a burial, Brick." Blossom looks at him solemnly with dark pink eyes and red-stained teeth. "You owe me Bubbles."

Brick panics, half out of his seat, and reaches for her. He needs to fly her to the hospital. He needs to save her. Just as he's about to touch her hand, he makes the mistake of blinking. His hand comes into contact with nothing but the rusty table. He blinks again and looks around wildly, taking in the broken windows of the dilapidated café and the rusted overturned tables and chairs around him.

"Blossom?"

No one was there.

**xxx**

The door bursts open, startling Boomer.

"Brick? What are you doing…?" Boomer looks at the bed where Bubbles sleeps and at his brother standing in the doorway. His confusion is quickly replaced with horror. "No, don't—!"

Before Boomer could think to move, Brick grabs him by the head and slams him repeatedly against the wall until he hears a small _crack_. Brick drops an unconscious Boomer on the floor and turns to the bed. _Fuck Sleeping Beauty_, he thinks nastily, and shoots a small fireball out of his palm at Bubbles. Within seconds, her whole body is up in flames due to the amount of flammable chemicals in her body. The air is heavy with black smoke and toxic fumes.

"There's your goddamn funeral." Brick says quietly.

"Thank you." Blossom whispers behind him.

Brick doesn't turn around. It's easier to talk to her if he doesn't look. "You'll stay with me?"

Her hand hovers over his pants pocket where he keeps her necklace. "I never left," she says softly. "You've never let me go."

His hand closes over the stone tightly._ Good._

* * *

**Brick is not someone who wastes his time with what-ifs and could-have-beens, but sometimes…_sometimes_... **


End file.
